Lunchtime
by TheBlondeWhoWaited
Summary: High school can be a difficult time for many, but it's even worse for a teenage Sherlock Holmes.


"Freak"

"Loser"

"Weirdo"

"Loner"

Sherlock walked through the crowded corridors and tried to block out their words as he made his way to class.

"Shelly no mates" A big, rough looking boy sneered at him as he past. Sherlock never understood people. They were so defensive and violent to anything different from themselves, and Sherlock certainly was different. He couldn't help it, ever since he was little he could just see things, and he couldn't understand how no one else could. His "special talent" was always getting him into trouble, teachers didn't like him, other kids at his school didn't like him, no one liked him. Sherlock always felt like he was alone, but that wasn't a bad thing. He liked being alone, when he was alone he could read, play the violin or even just observe others. Things got worse when he had to start school, and the older he got, the nastier the people around him became. Many believe their high school years are the best of their lives, you make friends for life, get to have amazing experiences and learn so much. School for Sherlock was very different, everyday was a test, a test of his ability to contain and control his feelings, if he got too angry and would start using his "talent" things would never end well.

Sherlock remembered the first time he was exposed as a freak. Another boy in his year, Alan was attacking him because of how small and skinny he was.

"You're just a skinny little rat aren't ya Shelly?" Alan hissed.

Sherlock sniggered at him, that was the first mistake

"Tell me how is your dad? Managed to contain his anger issues yet? Or is he still mindlessly beating you?"

Before Sherlock could register what he had said he was lying on the ground, his face covered in blood with a broken nose.

Ever since then, people began talking about Sherlock. He had been announced as the freak of the school that day and now nearly four years later, nothing had changed, things had only gotten worse.

"Oh look it's Shelly" Someone had grabbed the back of his coat and was pulling him backwards.

His back crashed against the cold lockers, and a large, brutish face met his. Just as he had thought, It was the school's self proclaimed "hard man" Terry. Sherlock lowered his gaze, not looking Terry in the eyes, slightly scared he was going to receive another thrashing from him. The last was three days ago, so he must have been due one.

"Tell me Shelly, what's it like being the outcast of the school, knowing that everyone hates you and if you were dead no one would care?" Terry snapped at him, laughing menacingly.

His words hit Sherlock like ice, it did hurt. Even know Sherlock knew that his life was worthless and no one cared for him, it still hurt to hear it. After years and years of harassment and abuse from the sea of unintelligent people that he encountered everyday, Sherlock finally broke down. He began to slightly weep to himself. Unfortunately this did not miss Terry's attention.

"Oh look" he sang patronisingly, "the freak actually does have some feelings. Oh I'm sorry did that hurt Shelly?"

Sherlock didn't respond, he was wishing that the lunch bell would ring and everyone would start running to class, the bell was the only thing that could save Sherlock now. Suddenly he felt dizzy, disorientated. His face was burning with pain, Terry had just punched him in the face. His head when flying back and bounced off the lockers, stabs of pain continued as Terry threw several punched in Sherlock's direction. All the time Sherlock kept wishing something would happen to make it stop. His vision was blurred, his face stinging, covered with blood and his stomach screaming with pain. Then everything very quickly went black.

When the light hit is eyelids and he started to come round, he was alone. They had left him bloodied in the corridor once more. They had opened his bag and threw his books across the place. Sherlock groaned in intense pain as he tried to reach for his books. Suddenly a hand placed itself on his back, Sherlock braced himself for another round of attacks, shutting his eyes in anticipation. The hurt never came, he opened his eyes confused, slowly he turned to see another young boy kneeling beside him. Sherlock had never seen this boy before, he had heard there was a new student arriving this week, this must have been him.

"That was horrific, are you ok?" The boy asked.

Sherlock nodded slowly, he could tell this boy wasn't like the others. He didn't need to use his talent to know that. The boy proceeded to help Sherlock to his feet and collected his books. Sherlock reached out for them and the boy smiled.

"I'll carry them, let's get you to the nurse." He said outstretching his arm for Sherlock to lean on.

Sherlock was hesitating, no one had even acted this way with him, was he genuine? Or was this another cruel trick to get Sherlock outside for more beatings?

"It's okay, come on you must be in a lot of pain. I'll help. My name is John. John Watson." He reassured.

"Sherlock Holmes" Sherlock replied taking John's arm and following him to the nurses office.


End file.
